


Deliverance

by macgyvershe



Category: MacGyver (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5888263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgyvershe/pseuds/macgyvershe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a MacGyver story from long ago and far away.  When I was younger and into multiple fandoms. One of MacGyver's adventures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deliverance

Deliverance

MacGyver collapsed into the dark corner of the filthy tenement hallway. The simple hand-off of incriminating information hadn’t gone down well at all. The ‘pick-up’ man had been involved in a gun-running bust that Mac had nailed several years ago. The guy recognized MacGyver instantly, had pulled a gun and started shooting. 

Mac talked into his cell phone.

“This is MacGyver, I’m hit. I need back-up!” From off in the distance he could hear gunfire. Not good, he thought. I might be on my own here.

Mac, where are you?” Nikki’s voice sounded terribly worried.

“I had to go into one of the buildings on Sutter Street. They’re after me, Nikki!”

He turned the audio off as he heard loud noises coming from elsewhere in the building.

The adrenaline rush that had carried him up several flights of stairs was gone. The terrible pain from the gunshot wound was settling in, overpowering him. He looked at his right shoulder: it was a bloody mess.

“You’ll be lucky if you can crawl down the hallway now,” he whispered to himself. The stench of rotting garbage and human excrement penetrated through the pain and Mac threw up what little lunch he had been able to eat. He retched again but there was nothing left to bring up. He tried to push away from his own vomit and couldn’t find the strength.

Hands grabbed him from behind and gently pulled him back. 

“Hang on, Mister.” A young black woman knelt beside him, rolling him in her direction and looking intently at the wound. She was maybe eighteen, tall and gangly, with a dark youthful beauty that showed even in the dusky light. “You hurt anywhere else?”

“No, nowhere else, but you’ve got to get out of here. The guy who did this is in the building. When he finds us, he’ll kill me, and he won’t leave any witnesses. Go, get out.” He placed a hand on hers.

She gave him an ‘I’m in charge look’ but there was a warm smile behind it all.

“Hey, I’m working here. I don’t care who’s looking for what. The first thing we have to do is get this bleeding stopped. Trust me; I know what I’m doing.”

“But….”

She gave him another one of those stares and he acquiesced.

“How’d you find me?”

“Find you. You’re leaving a trail of blood that a dead dog could follow.”

“Great.”

“Well, don’t get all bothered. I’ve covered up most of it as I made my way to you. Nobody is finding us quick. I’ve bought us some time.”

She took off her jacket and laid it over him. Pulling the lining out she attempted to tear it into strips.

“I’ve got a knife in my right back pocket,” Mac offered.

She fished for it and admired it as she brought it out. 

“Wow, this one does everything but make your bed.” Her admiration showing in her broad smile.

Mac felt himself losing consciousness.

“Oh, no you don’t. Stay with me here. You can’t walk on me now. Tell me, what’s your name?” She shook him and he focused back on her.

“MacGyver, call me Mac.”

“Okay Mac, I’m Rayna and you are not blacking out on me. We have to stabilize this wound and then we have to get you out of this hallway.”

With the knife she cut up the lining of her coat and taking a large portion of the material, she applied direct pressure to the wound. MacGyver stifled a cry of pain. She used another bit of cloth to clean up his soiled face.

“I know it hurts. But just hang on for a few minutes more till the bleeding stops.” With her free left hand she cradled his face. He looked up into her intense brown eyes. “Tell me what was going down” she asked?

He told her briefly about the exchange and the bad turnout.

“Don’t worry, I’m one of the good guys,” he said, giving her his best MacGyver smile.

“It wouldn’t matter. I’d have to take care of you, whoever you were. I’m an equal opportunity healer: it’s who I am, but I’m glad you’re one of the good guys.”

“Thanks. Where’d you learn all of this?”

“My mother was a nurse. She used to say I was a born healer, but she taught me a lot too. I’m going to have to wrap this arm to your body. I’m worried there might be damage to the joint and I need to immobilize your shoulder. You’ll have to help me a little.”

Together they got the bleeding stopped and the arm wrapped. Mac felt a bit better but he was wiped out energy-wise and it wasn’t over yet.

“Well it’s not sterile or pretty but it’ll do for now,” she said, examining her handiwork. The noise in the building sounded louder and closer. Someone was coming fast. 

 

“We gotta move now, Mac.”

Taking his good arm over her shoulder, she hooked her hand into his belt and hauled Mac to his feet.

“You’re strong…”

“For a girl?” Yeah, I know. “Comes from climbing all these stairs all the time.”

“You used to live here?”

“No, Mac. I live here now.”

Mac looked around at the hallway again and then at the strong young woman who was practically carrying him to safety and something inside him felt bad.

“The upper floors aren’t as messed up as these. No one wants to climb that far, but I know where the service elevator is. It’s the only thing in this place that still works and that’s only because no one can find it.”

The service elevator was a small rickety affair that didn’t look safe at all.

“Hey, I know it’s not much, but you’ll never make it up the stairs. We have to make do.”

They made it to the tenth floor. Mac was leaning heavily on Rayna as they exited the elevator and walked to her apartment. This floor was not as filthy as the last was; but it was still not a place that anyone should have to live in. 

Mac wasn’t getting any better: his movements were more awkward by the minute. 

“Just a few more steps, I promise.”

It was hard for her to hold him up and unlock the door too. But somehow she managed. Then over to a couch that looked like it was older than Rayna and Mac put together. 

As she carefully set him down there was more gunfire from outside.

“I wonder what that is,” Mac queried?

“Well, I ran home because there was a gang turf war going on outside,” Rayna said with a look of indignation on her face. “It’s between the Latinos and the home boys in this area, so I knew you weren’t in on that. What a waste.”

“That’s probably why my people haven’t been able to get to me. Rayna, could you pull out my cell? It’s clipped to my belt.”

“I hate to tell you, Mac, but there’s nothing clipped to your belt.”

“I must have lost it when I got sick.”

“I can go look for it.”

“No, it’s too dangerous. Call 911.”  
“We don’t have a phone that works.” She made him lie down and got some blankets to cover him. “This building is fifteen floors of apartments. I don’t think we have to worry. He’ll give up and go about his business soon enough.”

“I don’t think so. I was instrumental in giving him some hard time. I don’t think he’ll let it go that easily.” Mac paused.

“Are your parents around?”

“They are both dead. I live with my uncle. He works evenings, so he’s just left for work. There aren’t that many adults left in the building at this time of day: mostly latchkey kids and I think I’m the oldest.” Rayna heard more commotion outside and peered out one of the windows. 

“There are ten police cars out there. That’s good isn’t it?”

“Can you yell for help from here?”

“They aren’t that close Mac and it looks like they are busy rounding up everyone in sight.” She left the windowsill and came over to sit on the floor next to him.

“I guess I can leave you here while I go get some help. As long as you promise not to do anything crazy, like move around.”

“I promise,” he said, making a small x over his heart with his good hand.  
“My dad used to do that.” She smiled and he could see the sadness that he had caused in her heart.

“I’m sorry Rayna, I didn’t mean to bring back memories.”

“No, it’s okay Mac. You remind me of my dad.” She brushed a lock of his unruly hair from his face. “He had gentle eyes like you.” An inner strength took over and Rayna shone with pride. “If my mom were here right now, she’d take charge and she’d have everything happening just the way it should. And dad would be talking to you and keeping your mind off things. Making you laugh. He was good at making people laugh.”

“They sound like good people.”

“They were. She died of leukemia, waiting for a bone marrow transplant that never came. Dad died of an aneurysm, but I think he really died of a broken heart. He just couldn’t bare to be without her.” Her eyes were wet now and Mac brushed away a tear that was forming there.

“I know what it is to lose those that you love; not be able to do anything about it.” He offered his arm to her and she accepted his friendly embrace.

A loud banging sounded at the door and both Rayna and Mac jumped.

“Rayna, Rayna, the building’s on fire. Everyone’s getting out!” a youthful voice yelled.  
Rayna ran to the door, opened it and talked to the excited young man standing outside and then returned to Mac.

“The fire started on the lower levels. There is only one stairwell down, Mac.” She was in shock. “I can’t believe he’d kill everyone here just to.”

“To get to me. Believe it. You go down and see if you can get some of the police or a fireman up here to help me down.”

“No. I’m not leaving you.”

“Rayna, we both know that I can’t make it down ten flights of stairs. There’s no way. And we can’t use the elevator in a fire situation.”

“I’m not going to argue with you, Mac. If I leave you here you’re as good as dead. I’m not letting you die. I won’t lose anyone else if I can help it.” There was pain and a steely determination in her fierce brown eyes.

“Maybe we can stay here, block the space around the door and wait the fire out?” Mac suggested.

“Mac this place is a fire trap waiting to happen. The garbage and trash in the halls would fuel two or three fires. We’re wasting time.”

Rayna got wet towels to place over their faces and then she gathered up her patient.

Slowly, they started the long treacherous journey down. The stairwell was full of young children, screaming and crying loudly, filling the spiraling stairs with their desperate sounds. There were no fire doors on any floor so the stairwell was filling with dark smoke. Eventually, all of the occupants had gotten out. Now it was only Mac and Rayna and the sound of the fire burning in the background.

“Rayna, I have to rest.”  
She eased Mac to the landing. They had only come down four floors. The dark, choking smoke was getting thicker.

“Rayna, leave me,” he begged her.

She didn’t answer him. He saw her take his knife out of her pocket.

“What are you doing?”

She opened the sharpest, longest blade and started to cut the binding that held Mac’s arm in place.

“Sorry Mac. This is all I can think of. Please get up.”

Mac stood with her help. She stood in front of him, her back against his front. She pulled his good left arm over her shoulder. He saw what she was doing and knew it wasn’t going to be easy for either of them.

“Good luck,” he said into her ear as she brought his injured right arm over her shoulder. She gathered his arms tightly about her neck and crossed them. She leaned forward, taking the full weight of MacGyver on her back. Mac cried out in pain, as his injury was further stressed by the fireman’s carry. Thankfully, he blacked out.

Precariously, the dead weight of a full-grown man on her back, the young woman made her way down the dark stairwell.

“God, help me. God, help me,” she kept repeating over and over. 

“Put him down!” A man’s voice assaulted her ears with its roughness.

“I said, put him down.” The tall black man emerged from the smoke on the next landing, a gun in his hand.

Cautiously, Rayna laid her precious burden down.

“We need to get out of here!” she yelled at the stranger. “We’ll all die in this fire if we don’t go now.”

“There’s only one death I’m thinking about now. His!”

He aimed straight at MacGyver’s head as he walked closer and closer. His face filled with hate. 

“You stupid ass. What good’s it going to do you if he’s dead and you burn with him?” Rayna was livid with rage.

“Get out of my face, bitch, or you’ll die with him.”

Rayna screamed with everything that was in her as she lunged at the man with the gun.  
A single shot filled the corridors. Followed by yells and then a barrage of gunfire issued into the stairwell.

****

MacGyver, his right arm in a sling, stood in the chapel alone. The simple casket in front of him was closed. He lifted the lid, letting the hinges hold the lid open. Taking the dark, cold hand in his own, he held it tightly. His tears flowed freely and words came with great difficulty.

“Thank you, Rayna, for my life.” He reached into his pocket and removed his faithful Swiss Army knife. With sorrow and a deep reverence, he placed it into the unfeeling hand of a young woman he barely knew and now would never know.

Then he leaned into her space and kissed her forehead. Hot tears fell from his eyes onto her ruined cheek. He closed the casket for the last time and left the chapel. Walking out into the atrium of the church he found Rayna’s uncle. MacGyver was still leaking tears but he really didn’t care. With his good arm he hugged the old man, who was also crying.

“Mr. Landon, would you mind telling me about Rayna?”

Smiling, the old man sat down on a nearby wooden bench as Mac accompanied him.

“Oh, she was so smart, so full of life. She wanted to be a doctor, you know….”

(-_-)

MacGyver lay on his cold bed in his darkened bedroom. His right shoulder throbbed with dull pain from the gunshot wound. Healing: it always seemed to be such a painful process. Right now, all he wanted was some uninterrupted sleep. He touched the casting that protected his damaged bone.

She had been right about the break. She’d been right about so many things that night. The fire in the tenement apartment where she had lived had raged through the building, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. She had said it would. She had been so strong during that difficult evening. Her physical strength: the way she’d pulled his arms around her neck and leaning forward, lifted his full weight off the ground. She’d taken him on her back so that she could carry his severely injured body down the only stairway in the burning building. That in its self was amazing for an eighteen-year-old girl. But it was her inner strength that he remembered most; the way she took charge and did what she had to do. What she had to do? Why had she done it? Why?

Mac got up and walked over to the chest of drawers. He lifted the bottle of painkillers. He hated taking the stuff. It left him weak and groggy the next day, but he just had to get some sleep tonight.

“Just half of one,” he whispered to himself as he fished inside the bottle for the broken half that he knew was left from a few nights ago. Going back to bed he took the pill and chased it down with a sip of water. 

Lying down, a pillow beneath his head, he pulled another pillow over his chest. Rolling onto his good side, he curled up around the pillow. He felt the tears coming and this time he didn’t try to hold them back. Hot tears flooded his eyes and he called her name.

“Rayna. I’m so sorry Rayna….”

He cried uncontrollably, hugging his pillow tightly. He cried and cried until there were no more tears left in him. Finally, all that was left was the pain: the pain, the guilt, the regret and the loss; the overwhelming loss that he couldn’t bear any more. 

“Take away the pain, please take away the pain.” He didn’t mean the pain in his arm.

He felt gentle hands take hold of his injured arm and roll him onto his back: the way they’d done the night of the fire. Even in the darkness he could see her radiant smile as she sat on the edge of his bed.

“Rayna!” He tried to sit up, but his body refused to respond and all he could do was reach up for her with his good arm, as he had done in her apartment just weeks before.

“MacGyver.” She said his name like it was the most wonderful word there ever was.

Her arms encircled him as he buried his face into her loving embrace.

“Rayna, I thought I’d lost you!”

She pulled away from him to look into his face and held his hands firmly in hers.

“Mac, you need to heal. Don’t struggle so much.” 

His eyes, eyes that he would have sworn just seconds ago were empty, now brought forth copious tears of joy. 

“Rayna. I am so sorry. I never wanted you to….”

Her dark hand caressed his face.

“Shhh……” she quieted him.

Tenderly she brushed the tears from his eyes.

“You’re going to mess up those beautiful eyes of yours. Don’t let your heart be so sad.”

“You died for me, Rayna. You were only eighteen years old!”

“I made a choice. I chose life. If it had been me lying on the floor at the foot of that gunman: would you have done any different?”

MacGyver searched his soul.

“No,” he said with absolute certainty.

“I gifted you, MacGyver. I gifted you with the very best gift I could.”

“You gave your life for me!” 

“Cause I know you’d never waste that gift. That gift was never meant to be a burden. Please don’t let your pain cripple you.”

“No son, don’t let the pain win.”

Mac’s eyes widened as the image of his father and mother formed in his vision. James MacGyver sat next to Rayna. His mother, Ellen, stood behind James. 

“Mom, Dad!”

He tried to rise but loving hands pressed him back into his bed.

“Now you listen to her Angus. She’s a very bright and intelligent young lady.”

Angus smiled at his mother’s chastising words.

“Yes, Mom.”

“Don’t despair, son.” James MacGyver gave an understanding look to his tortured son. “Use this. Find a purpose in it. She doesn’t want you to feel all this pain. Don’t give it to yourself.”

“You have to listen to your mother and father, if you won’t listen to me!” Rayna’s eyes were alight with the joy of life. She leaned into his space and kissed his cheek.

Angus felt his heart lighten. The guilt that he’d buried there was dissolved by the love that surrounded him. His eyes fluttered and he felt sleep dragging him away.

“I …stay and talk to me…I….”

“You need to rest, Mac. Any time you need to talk, we’ll be right here.” Rayna placed her hand over MacGyver’s heart. “Right here.”

“Now let go. Sleep without pain. I’m okay,” she said emphatically.

Mac held Rayna’s hand over his heart and drifted into an untroubled sleep.

James stood and took Ellen MacGyver into his arms.

“I’ll stay and watch over him,” Rayna said. “Tell my Mom and Dad I’ll be late getting back to them.”

“Sure, Rayna,” James replied.

“Thank you, Rayna,” Ellen said, placing her hand on the young girl’s shoulder.

“Oh, you are more than welcome, Ellen. It was surely my pleasure.”

She turned back to the sleeping man on the bed as his parents left. He was too warm and he tossed in his discomfort. 

Unfurling her dark feathered wings, she used them to fan the air about her dearest friend.

MacGyver relaxed sleeping in comfortable peace.


End file.
